


"I'm Johanna."

by iliveinfantasies



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Café, Coffee Shops, F/F, Hunger Games, Joniss - Freeform, barista!katniss, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iliveinfantasies/pseuds/iliveinfantasies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunger Games coffee shop AU. Every day, the same pain in the ass girl comes in to the coffee shop that Katniss works at. Every day, the girl gives a different name for her order. Katniss can't decide whether she wants to hit the girl or kiss her, but soon enough, she'll have to decide. </p><p>Part 1 in what could turn out to be a number of chapters. Even though this is a little ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm Johanna."

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to someone at jonissheadcanons (http://jonissheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. They submitted the headcanon, and for some reason, I decided writing a ridiculous coffee shop AU was a good plan.
> 
> I do not own these characters.  
> As always, I love comments and criticisms!

Katniss didn’t actually know the girl, not really. She only knew her as “the regular with the red streaks and the obnoxious attitude, who has no real name.” Yesterday, for example, she had been Emily. The day before that, it was Sam. Last week, she had been Sara, Quinn, and Ceasar (no, really), respectively.

Today, apparently, she was Enobaria.

Katniss rolled her eyes, reading the name on the cup in front of her.

“What the hell kind of name is Enobaria?” she muttered to herself, hitting the portafilter out of the grouphead and smacking it against the counter to clear out the extra grounds.

“What the hell kind of name is Katniss?” retorted a voice nearby.

Katniss’ eyes shot up, eyebrows raised, to see a pair of impish brown eyes and a little crooked smile watching from the other side of the counter. She stared at the other girl, taken aback. For about two seconds. Took in the red-streaked bangs and the side-smirk. Then, she just glowered.

“How do you know my name?” she demanded, surprised and more than just a little irritated. The other girl just grinned wolfishly, eyes shining, and pressed her palms to the counter. She leaned over a little and crooked a finger, gesturing Katniss forward. Katniss rolled her eyes and walked over, still clutching the handle of the portafilter, irritation etched all over her face, and cocked her ear toward the other girl. She could feel the girl’s breath, hot and damp, blowing on her ear as the girl opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m not going to tell you. And that shot’s not going to tamp itself,” the girl said, voice quiet and muted, but tinted with a blithe humor. Then she leaned back, turned, and walked toward the condiment counter, chuckling softly. Katniss stood there for a moment, staring stupidly after the girl. Dragging, hour-esque seconds passed before she was able to convince her hands to move again, sluggishly restarting their work like a rusty carousel trying to turn. She shook herself out of her reverie, scowling, cheeks tinted in humiliation and exasperation. Her mind was poking at her, infuriated with herself for getting worked up instead of working. She made the latte as quickly as she could, nearly scalding herself with milk in the process, and plunked it down on the counter.

“ _Enobaria,”_  Katniss hissed out, refusing to look at the other girl’s face as she pulled her drink off the counter. She could feel the other girl’s self-satisfaction coming off of her in waves as she walked toward the door, cup in hand. Katniss finally looked up.

“Thanks!” the girl called over her shoulder, short, choppy locks swinging lightly against her back as wrenched the door open. “Let’s do it again sometime.” Katniss shook her head. What the  _hell_ had just happened? That girl was a piece of work and a half, and she was driving Katniss up the goddamn wall.

* * *

 

Katniss yawned widely as she pulled open the door to the café, beyond exhausted. She had worked all night just to close with a painfully slow newbie, and had somehow gotten roped into opening the next day.  _Finnick owes me one, big time,_ she thought, stomping the dirt off her boots as she hung up her bag in the back. She glanced up at her schedule, trying to locate her name on the list. If she had to work with that same newbie, she swore she was quitting. She finally located her name on the list, and signed, deeply. She was opening with someone  _else_ she didn’t know, someone named Johanna.

 _Great,_ she thought, staring at the name.  _It’s a different newbie._

Katniss heard the bell echo in the front, the bell that let her know someone had come in the café.  _And so the day begins,_  she thought, dully.

“Sorry, we’re not quite open yet,” she called out, padding out of the back room and around the front counter. She stopped, and fought back a groan. She would know those red-streaked bangs anywhere, that perfectly-styled sneer.

“You look pretty open to me,” the girl said, gesturing toward the open door and coming to stand right in front of Katniss. Her scent washed over Katniss, ash and sharp pine, burnt wood and salt. She smelled like the woods behind Katniss’ mother’s house and, irritatingly enough, for a moment, Katniss found it oddly comforting. Then she got over it, really fast, and stood up straighter to address the girl.

“Okay,” Katniss pressed out through gritted teeth, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She knew she was supposed to be nice to all the customers, even ones who came in early, even ones who were painfully present and seemed to get pleasure in her irascibility. But she was tired, her new coworker was late, and somehow, once again, she had found herself alone with no-name. “So, tell me. Who exactly are you today?”

The other girl simply watched Katniss, usual smirk rapidly forming on her face. She took a couple of slow steps forward, toward Katniss, causing her to step backward until her back was pressed up against the sharp edge of the condiment counter, metal cutting lightly into her spine. The whole thing felt a bit like strange sort of dance, a viper slowly stalking its prey. They were playing an odd sort of tug-of-war, and Katniss suspected that the other girl was winning. They stood there for a moment, facing off, electricity in the room growing thicker and the walls buzzing with a rough sort of energy.

 _What is UP with this girl, anyway?_ Katniss thought, her usual frustration rising up to hit the roof of her mouth.  _This is ridiculous._ She pushed herself up off the condiment counter and stood up straight, crossing her arms once more.

“Today? The girl asked, finally addressing Katniss’ earlier question, fixing her face into a mockingly-serious sort of half-frown and widening her eyes. “Why, today, I have a different sort of name.”

“What a surprise,” Katniss snorted, lightly, arms still crossed. The girl just sneered, again, and Katniss found herself wondering whether the other girl was capable of any other expressions.

“Yup,” the girl continued, flicking her eyes downward and back up again, looking as though she wanted to scratch some sense into Katniss’ smooth skin. “Today, I’m your coworker.”

Then she turned on her heel and marched behind the counter into the back room. Katniss stood there just a moment, trying to process the words that were just aloud spoken to the room.  _Oh, shit._  Then, she ran after the other girl.

“Wait,  _What?”_ she burst out, turning the corner and nearly taking out a box of coffee sleeves in the process. The other girl put down the bag she was holding, and turned toward Katniss, rolling her eyes.

“What are you, brainless?” the girl asked, tapping lightly on Katniss’ temple and fixing her with a devil-smile. Her voice sounded like custard that was left in the pot too long, smooth and sweet, but rough with curdled lumps of cream sticking to the edges.

“I thought that I made it pretty fucking clear,“ she continued, looking Katniss straight in the eye. "I’m Johanna.”


End file.
